Page 137 of Rot In Knotty Pieces

It’s harder than I would have thought, but this is a whole new side of the world that I haven’t seen before.

And suddenly, I don’t want to disappear again.

Jay

The screaming of the arcades call me back like a siren I can’t ignore. I sit in the seat behind a steering wheel and race against a computer. It’s like a whole other world. No one would think to look for me here, and I can silence the pain.

The screams.

The truth.

We’re becoming aware of each other. It’s taken a while of us moving in and out, but now we know. We’re ships passing in the night, hostile entities who take over during shift change.

We hate each other.

But don’t most people hate themselves?

I stay until my head starts to ache, and the past gets louder than the sound of the arcade. Then I stand up, and with my bottle of coke, I slip out into the busy street.

I’m just another person walking in a crowd until, suddenly, I am another person.

Kestrel

I sit against the wall, my knees to my chest. Everything is terrifying. I don’t know how I got here. This empty warehouse, with its broken glass and homeless people sitting around barrels of fire. My stomach seizes painfully. When did I last eat? Where is Father? I know I’ve lost a lot of time. I don’t have control of my body anymore. The others keep taking it, and I get to sit there, watching as they do things I would never do.

I’m crazy.

Damaged.

My body aches. My stomach cramps viciously, painfully. I take the pain and put it in a box and hold it.

There’s something wrong with me, and I don’t know where to go to get help. I think I might be crazy.

I bury my face in my knees.

“At least we’re not in Father’s hold anymore. We’re free,” I whisper and then turn and vomit.

When I’m finished, I’m shaking and weak, sweaty, and I feel gross.

I need food…I need…

Is this better?

Freedom doesn’t really look like freedom. It just looks like a different name for starving.

People still beat us. The world is still cold.

There’s no bed.

No friendly smiles.

No happiness.

Not for me.

I close my eyes, leaning my head back against the wall, holding the pain.

It’s easier just to let them take my body. What the fuck am I staying here for?